Bagpipes

"The pipes, the pipes are playing..."
The music of my soul,
Chords that fall like raindrops
         from mountain crest and castle wall,
Wild notes from highland battles
         echoing both victory and defeat.

"The pipes, the pipes are calling..."
To my genetic roots;
Recalling ancestral memories
         from glen and moor and bog,
Memories of Gaelic gods and goddesses
         worshiped in Erin, in Scotland, in Man.

"The pipes, the pipes are marching..."
To a new song in this day,
To a song of unity, faith, and freedom,
A song that all humanity can sing.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, located in the folder Awardicon Items, located in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com